


The Baby Project

by ash_mcj



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Children, Cute, Enemies, F/M, Love, Twins, dramione - Freeform, parenting, the baby project
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj
Summary: Everyone is back for their Seventh year at Hogwarts, and there is a new mandatory class. It's called 'The Baby Project', and it is not what anyone expected (or wanted, really). Read (and probably laugh...a lot) as your favorite Harry Potter characters go through The Baby Project!(This is a Dramione story)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I have this posted on my Wattpad account and people seemed to really love it, so I am posting it on here, as well. Enjoy :)
> 
> Please comment and/or leave kudos and let me know what you think of this story--I want to know!

Hermione jolted awake when Ginny pounced on her bed, screaming her name excitedly. She opened her eyes, but that proved to be a quite terrible idea, as the warm rays of sunlight streaming in through the window tried to blind her.

“What, Gin?” Hermione asked, irritated at the younger girl’s childishness. She really could act like a five year old at times.

“WE GOT OUR HOGWARTS LETTERS THIS MORNING!” She squealed, tossing one of the envelopes on Hermione’s stomach.

Hermione and Harry had nowhere to go after the war had ended; her parents didn’t have any recollection of ever having her, and his uncle didn’t want him wasting space in their house. So, they had moved into the Burrow, and that’s where they had been staying for the past couple of years. Hermione enjoyed living there. Having her two best friends down the hall, and Ginny--whom she had formed a sort of sisterly bond with--just across the room was rather fun.

“Wait, what?” Hermione asked, confused. She’d thought she’d missed her seventh year during the war, and didn’t think for a second that she’d be able to repeat it. Not to mention, Hogwarts had been closed for reconstruction. Could she really go back now?

“Me, you, Harry, and Ron were all accepted into Hogwarts again this year!” Ginny explained, holding up her acceptance letter as proof.

Hermione sat up and grabbed hers from where it had fallen in her lap. She opened it carefully and smiled at the familiar green script.

 

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall_

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_*Note: all seventh year students will be required to take an extra class that has been added to the curriculum this school year._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

 

“A new class?” Hermione asked no one in particular. “But Hogwarts hasn’t changed curriculum since it first opened. I wonder what it could be?”

She set the first paper down beside her and looked at the second. Her eyes skimmed quickly over the uniform, course books, and supplies requirements, before zeroing in on the unfamiliar book title.

“A Guide to Parenting?” she almost shrieked. “It’s a _parenting_ class?”

“What do you reckon we will be learning in there? How to change nappies?” Ginny giggled.

“I’m not sure.” Hermione shook her head. Maybe it would be like the Muggle program where students took care of a baby doll for a couple weeks? She couldn’t imagine what would take a whole year to learn. Parenting couldn’t be _that_ hard, right?

“Hermione, we will both be in the same year!” Ginny realized.

“Bloody Hell, will you two shut up?” Ron said angrily from the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Harry and are human beings and are attempting to get something called _sleep_ , which we can’t do with all of your girlish screaming. It’s seven in the morning, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Sorry.” The girls mumbled, and he stomped off down the hall again to the room he shared with Harry.

“Girlish screaming, my arse. You should have heard him the summer after his second year! He saw a spider smaller than a the tip of my pinkie finger and screamed higher-pitched than I ever could. He was almost crying as he called for Dad to come kill it.” Ginny laughed quietly.

Hermione reckoned he was probably scarred from nearly being eaten by Hagrid’s spider’s babies earlier that year.

“We need to go shopping in Diagon Alley for our school supplies, so get ready. We’ll probably need to get Ron’s and Harry’s as well--Merlin knows they could very well sleep all day.” Hermione told her, pushing the covers off of herself.

“I call the shower first!” Ginny exclaimed, scrambling off the bed and rushing down the hall to the bathroom. Hermione just shook her head and smiled--she was going back to school!


	2. Chapter One

As Draco walked through the restored halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he realized that it was nothing like it was when he was younger.  _ He  _ was nothing like he was when he was younger. There was an innocence lost--you could see it in the faces of all the students. Even the first years had a hardness in their eyes and an etch of maturity across their features; the kind that showed they had known pain. A friend, a neighbor, a family member--almost everyone had lost someone during the war. Draco had no qualms about showing that he was a part of those who killed them. It was obvious by the way he kept the sleeves of his robes rolled up, flaunting his Dark Mark.

It gave him the feeling of superiority again, when the younger kids’ eyes zeroed in on the black marking on his pale skin, and they flinched and scurried off down the hall. This was something he missed about school: being held on a pedestal. Call it vanity, but he relished in the fact that everybody knew his name and nobody even dared to  _ think  _ about crossing him.

Well, nobody except the beloved Golden Trio. Scar-Head and his sidekicks Weasel Bee and Mudblood Beaver had ruined the Malfoy and Black family names. What used to be the most respected families in the Wizarding World were now nothing but feared and untrusted. Not that that affected much--they still held their elite social class, their money, and maintained all of their friends. So what if they could no longer hold positions in the Ministry of Magic? Draco wasn’t planning to, anyway.

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were the main reasons Draco didn’t want to return, but his mother had forced him too. He was nineteen years old, but she still seemed to think she could control every aspect of his life, and he just couldn’t seem to ever stand up to her. She was his mother, after all. She probably knew best.

Draco walked into the Great Hall with Blaise Zabini at his side, and sat down at the Slytherin table, where they were welcomed with handshakes and tight-lipped smiles. Draco never understood why Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs always greeted each other with hugs and high fives and ridiculous actions--a handshake was much more mature and didn’t look utterly childish when you did it. One of the many ways in which Slytherins--mostly filled of wealth and good blood--were raised better, in his opinion.

Headmistress McGonagall walked up to the eagle podium, where the great Albus Dumbledore once stood, and cleared her throat. The crowd’s excited yelling settled into a dull whispering, before extinguishing completely.

“Welcome back for another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is a pleasure, as always, to have you all here.” She said.

The sorting hat ceremony was as boring as ever, and Draco busied himself with examining the lines in the wooden table. He couldn’t believe he was actually there again. The following morning, he’d be attending classes and doing homework, just like when he was younger. Would he be able to rejoin the Quidditch team? That really was the only positive aspect of this bloody school.

“Now, I am going to ask the first through sixth year students to please take your dinners to your Common Rooms, which your House Prefects will lead you to. All seventh years, please remain seated here in the Great Hall, so I can explain the new program to you.” McGonagall instructed, and most of the students flowed out into the hallway leaving about ten students still seated at their tables.

“Merlin’s Beard--there are only ten Seventh Years?” Blaise whispered to Draco, who responded with a small, uninterested shrug of his shoulders.

“It’s so wonderful to see you all again.” The Headmistress smiled, looking mostly at the Gryffindor table. “As you’ve probably already noticed, there are very few of you. Seventh year is optional, as you know, and many of our students did not wish to revisit Hogwarts after the war, for obvious reasons. Everyone who was a sixth year previously was given the choice to repeat their sixth year or move onto seventh, if they had sufficient marks from their sixth year, but most decided to repeat, since that last year was...interrupted.”

Draco looked over at the Gryffindor table, where his least favorite people were sat. He noticed that Harry and Ron were rudely having a conversation while McGonagall was speaking, Neville and Ginny were mouthing words to each other across the table, and Hermione was sitting up straight with her hands crossed over the table, paying close attention to the speech. Draco rolled his eyes at the attentive Teacher’s Pet who managed to upset him more than anyone he had met in his life. Her very presence was enough to set him in a bad mood for the remainder of the day. He used to think it was just the fact that she was a Mudblood, but it had to be more than that.  The way she always knew the answer to every question and would throw a smug look at him across the classroom, because she  _ knew  _ he had the  _ second  _ highest mark in their potions class (behind herself), infuriated him. The way she stuck her chin up and refused to back down whenever he challenged her aggravated him, because nobody had ever done that before her. That stupid way her jaw clenched whenever he would call her a Mudblood, but she wouldn’t usually retaliate back. Not to mention her uncanny ability to pack more power behind a punch than Draco thought was in her whole tiny body. He could go on and on with the list of why he detested Hermione Granger, but his attention was drawn back to McGonagall, as she started speaking again.

“The new class that was mentioned in your letters is called ‘The Baby Project’. The Ministry of Magic wants to address the fact that more and more young witches are being irresponsible and getting pregnant at young ages, and have no idea how to properly deal with a child. So, they have issued a new law that states that everyone in their final year of schooling needs to learn to care for children and live as an adult. You will each receive a partner, who will act as your wife or husband for the year, and a certain number of kids. The kids will be made in one of two ways: you will either have the kids, or you will get a babydoll. Having the kids entails the ‘mother’ drinking a potion containing a few strands of hair from both ‘parents’. She will be pregnant for a month and a half, going through all of the normal pregnancy symptoms, and then give birth in the Hospital Wing. As for the babydolls, you will be instructed in your Baby Project class how to awaken them. These children will age very quickly, so you can experience raising them at different ages.”

Shouts of confused, outraged protests echoed around the room, but silenced when the Headmistress raised her hand.

“It was not my choice to add this class to the curriculum, so arguing with me will make no difference in the whether or not you all have to do it. What I did have a choice in, was the pairings. I have given adequate thought in whom I partnered, and my mind will not be changed. Anyone who wants to disagree with me can keep their complaints to themselves. Understood? Marvelous.” She waved her wand in the air and names appeared above her head in silver script.

_ Hermione Granger~Draco Malfoy _

_ Astoria Greengrass~Neville Longbottom _

_ Luna Lovegood~Blaise Zabini _

_ Pansy Parkinson~Ronald Weasley _

_ Harry Potter~Ginny Weasley _

Everyone in the room besides Harry and Ginny were upset. There were angry whispers amongst the students and noises of disgust and fake puking as everyone read the names of their partners.

Draco was staring, shocked at the idea that McGonagall thought it would be a good idea to partner him with a  _ Mudblood _ . Did nobody recall that they were enemies? He must have forgotten how to read cursive or something--he couldn’t possibly be reading that correctly. Surely, this was a mistake.

“This is not up for discussion.” McGonagall said sternly, sensing the discord. “Please quickly move to sit beside your partner.”

Draco made an intense eye contact--a glare, really--with Hermione across the room, and she waved him over. Draco was annoyed that she was seriously wanting him--a Pureblood--to get up and move, so her Mudblood self didn’t have to, but he got up, anyway. When he reached the Gryffindor table, he made sure to sit far enough away from her as to not catch any diseases. She seemed to catch on to what he was doing, but she didn’t say anything--just shook her head and turned her attention back to the Headmistress.

“In addition to raising the children and completing your school work, most of you will be required to maintain a job to support your ‘family’. You will not be in the house dormitories this year--you will get your own flat on the fourth level of the school.” McGonagall told them, and Draco almost jumped when a large yellow envelope appeared in front of him. “Enclosed within this envelope, which each pair has received, is all the additional information you will need for this project, including what jobs have been set aside for you and what room numbers your flats are. With that, I bid you all good night and good luck.”

When Draco looked back up, she was already gone. Hermione took the envelope and fished out the key, which had ‘320’ printed across the base. She swiftly stood up and began walking out of the Great Hall, leaving Draco to grab the envelope off the table and follow after her. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if McGonagall was trying to punish him for his loyalties during the war--because forcing him to live with someone like  _ Hermione _ absolutely  _ had _ to be a punishment.

When they reached room 320, Hermione slid the key in the lock and pushed the door open. There were two bedrooms, a decent-sized kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. The walls were a deep green color with silver baseboards and silver ceiling. The couches were also very ‘Slytherin’, with greyish fabric and a green snake across the back. The kitchen was more ‘Gryffindor’, which Draco found rather fitting, as women belonged in the kitchen. The tiles on the counter were red with a golden grout, which brought an overall warm feeling to the room. The refrigerator had a similar color scheme, with red doors and golden handles. The house was mostly greys and reds everywhere else, and although it looked a bit Christmas-like in places, it was quite nice.

“Are you going to start taking things out of the envelope, or do you need help?” Hermione asked, sitting on a stool at the red island in the center of the kitchen. 

“Shut up, you filthy little Mudblood.” Draco spit, sitting across from her and dumping the contents onto the table. They both looked down at the piece of parchment and the small potion vial and knew that as terrible as it was doubtlessly going to be, one thing was certain: it was going to be an interesting year.


	3. Chapter Two

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,” Draco read aloud from the letter they had found within the envelope, eliciting a shudder from both he and Hermione. There was no way in  _ Hell _ that that would ever happen--Draco was sure of it. As far as he was concerned, Mudblood and Malfoy didn’t even remotely belong in the same category. “I wish you both good luck on your project this year. You will start off your parenting experience with twin baby dolls (located in the cribs in the children's room), which Professor Beckley will assist you in activating during your first lesson of The Baby Project class. In addition to the twins, you will also go through one pregnancy. Further instructions can be found on the back of this parchment. Please make sure to bring aforementioned baby dolls and any birthed children to class for every session of the parenting class. Class schedules will be arriving tomorrow morning before breakfast, as per usual. As for your jobs, Mrs. Malfoy will be taking over as a student teacher for Professor Rome in Defense Against the Dark Arts for first through third years (further details on times can be found in your schedule), while Mr. Malfoy will be a stay-at-home parent. Minerva McGonagall.”

“Aren’t the  _ mothers  _ supposed to be the ones to stay at home with the children?” Draco complained.

“Well, I suppose we can add ‘sexist’ to the long list of reasons how you are a prick. Now, give that to me.” Hermione plucked the parchment from his hands and began inaudibly reading the instructions on the back.

“It says here to place three strands of hair from both... _ parents _ ...into the potion, and then I need to drink it.” She told im, uncapping the bottle. She wafted it towards her face and nearly gagged. “Ugh, that smells like cow manure and play dough!”

“What is a play dough?” Draco asked, confused. 

She waved her hand dismissively, uttering, “A Muggle thing,” while pulling a few pieces of her hair out and dropping them into the potion vial. Pink swirls shot up from the bottle and swirled around her, before dissipating into the air. She held out her hand expectantly towards Draco, but he just crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his chin out.

“I am not tearing out my hair to impregnate a Mudblood--for a class or otherwise.” He stated.

“Don’t tell me you are afraid of pulling out a couple pieces of hair?” She laughed condescendingly, shaking her head.

“It’s stuck in your head; it’s not supposed to come out. Besides, once my hair goes into that potion and you drink it, you will officially be carrying my child, which makes me physically ill.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual. However, I am not getting a bad mark in this class because of your petty prejudices, so, I’ll just be taking these.” Hermione told him, quickly reaching across the table and ripping out a few strands of his blonde hair.

“Bloody Hell! Don’t touch me with your filthy hands, you disgusting--”

“Oh, shut up, Malfoy, it’s just a little bit of hair. Quit being such a baby. You’d think being a Death Eater would have hardened you up a bit...you fought in a war, for Merlin’s sake!”

Hermione dropped the hairs into the potion and blue smoke shot out and spiraled around Draco. She screwed her eyes shut and poured the foul liquid into her mouth, barely swallowing the last bit, before coughing violently. It was worse than Polyjuice Potion, she decided.

“You’ve got quite the nerve to call a Death Eater a baby.” Draco growled.

“All Gryffindors have nerve--it’s what sets us apart from you cowardly Slytherins. We tend to do what’s right, instead of what’s easy.”

“And who’s to say that what you perceive as ‘right’ actually is? That term is entirely perception.”

“Well, I know that killing hundreds of good, innocent people for no reason other than to control the entire wizard race, with beliefs build upon egotistical ideas of blood supremacy  _ wasn’t _ right. True, perception is a large part of it, but your perception of things goes hand-in-hand with how loose you let your morals be... _ that’s  _ the difference between Slytherins and Gryffindors. Slytherins’ morals tend to fluctuate depending on what most benefits them, while Gryffindors stay true to what they know is right and wrong.”

“It isn’t as simple as that, Granger; it’s not so black and white. The war wasn’t based purely upon good and evil. You think Slytherins are cruel monsters, because of the role that most of us played during the war, but you have the wrong mindset...we adapt to survive. It’s what sets us apart. You Gryffindors die standing up for your silly beliefs, but Slytherins are cunning--we do what we need to do to come out on top. Once you are at the top, you can enact your beliefs all you want. People will follow you. How do you think the Dark Lord gained so much power? It’s about playing it dirty and making connections. If you run into a battle with no plan but the knowledge of what you want the end result to be, you won’t get too far. Bravery is far too overrated...it’s deceptive strategy that is the key to success.”

Hermione sat back in her chair, slightly squinting her eyes at him. She was obviously letting what he said sink in and trying to figure out how to argue it.

“Speechless, huh?” Draco smirked. “For such a brilliant mind, you really can be so daft. You believe anything McGonagall tells you. She fills you and your little Gryffindor friends’ heads with ideas that you are better than the other houses, and you believe her. You have your own ridiculous prejudices, just like you try to shame me for having. At least mine are justified.”

“You called me brilliant. Looks like we  _ can  _ agree on something.”

Draco rolled his eyes and stood up. He had a long train ride to Hogwarts earlier that day and he was exhausted. He just couldn’t deal with Hermione’s smug attitude any longer that night. “I’m going to bed.”

“I really don’t need a play-by-play on your life, Malfoy. We aren’t actually married.”

“Thank Merlin for that.” He said, walking down the hall to the bedroom he would have to share with Hermione. It was large and had two full-sized beds--one with green and silver sheets, and one with red and gold. It wasn’t hard to figure out which belonged to who. He changed into his emerald silk pajamas and was about to crawl into bed, when he realized that he was absolutely parched.

When he walked back into the kitchen to get a glass of water, he saw Hermione asleep on the couch, snoring softly.

She even  _ snored _ \--could she possibly get more revolting?

He walked over and upon noticing her robes and shoes in a messy heap on the ground, grimaced. He couldn’t help but quickly hang the robe up on the wall and place the shoes neatly by the front door. He just couldn’t stand messy things--no doubt a result of the opulent way he was raised.

His eyes caught something shimmer on her forearm in the orange glow of the lit candle on the coffee table:  _ Mudblood _ . He suppressed a shiver as the memory of her agonizing screams filled his head. He may not like her in the slightest, but that was one of the most traumatizing incidents in his life. Hearing first-hand what torture and pain  _ sounds  _ like is something not easily forgotten.

He noticed how uncomfortable she looked, sprawled across the couch with one leg hanging off the side and the other up over the top of the backrest. Her arms were hugging her torso securely and her eyebrows were knitted together in a stressed manner. He had heard that people were supposed to look peaceful while they slept, but this girl’s troubles apparently followed her into her dreams. There was always a somewhat defensive, guarded demeanor about her, as if she was certain someone was going to try to attack her at any moment. She seemed to feel this need to protect herself since she was young, because Draco couldn’t recall a time when she  _ didn’t  _ look this way.

Draco hesitantly slipped his hands under her back and knees, lifting her up bridal-style. She was about 5’4’’ and 110 pounds, so she was fairly light. It was also helpful that she was nearly seven inches shorter than him.

As he brought her down the hall, he justified it as ‘making sure she was safely carrying his heir’.

They were halfway to the bedroom, when Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. He tensed and held his breath, acutely aware that they were now breathing the same air. Now he was going to get diseases from the Mudblood and end up in St. Mungos, or something. This is what happens when he tries to be nice, for once.

He all but ran the rest of the way to the bedroom and tried to set her down on the red and gold bed, but she wouldn’t let go of him. He grew increasingly annoyed as he struggled to get away from her, while she was holding him tighter and tighter. It wasn’t long before he lost his balance and toppled onto her, waking her up and causing her to scream out in surprise.

“What the Hell, Malfoy?!” She exclaimed, anger and disgust in her eyes as she pushed him away from her. “What do you think you are doing?”

Draco clenched his fists in response to the ire building up in his body. He knew what she was thinking and he was appalled at the silent accusation.

“Don’t look at me like I was trying to shag you or something. You are the last piece of filth I would go to for that.” He spit. This is why he never tried to help people. He was better off letting them deal with their own problems. He should have left her on the couch to wake up with a sore neck in the morning--why should he care? The ungrateful Beaver.

He turned and stormed off, making sure to slam the door loudly on the way out. He looked around the kitchen and living room, deciding that he was going to sleep there for the night. There was no way he could sleep in the same room as Hermione, and he wasn’t about to go sleep in the hallway and look like he was kicked out, either. He contemplated sleeping on the floor in the kids’ room, but quickly decided against that. There was no way he was about to sleep on a dirty floor, while the Mudblood slept in a warm bed. He looked over at the couch--which Granger had already doubtlessly infected with her countless diseases--and briefly wondered if it would be smarter to just avoid the germs and sleep on the table. After careful consideration, he decided that he had already been exposed to whatever she was carrying, so he grabbed the green blanket off the back of the couch and laid down on it.

The cushions unequally distributed his weight, making it feel rather lumpy and uncomfortable, but it was better than sleeping in the same room as Hermione.


	4. Chapter Three

Hermione woke up at the same time she woke up most days: five o’clock. She wasn’t necessarily a morning person--she preferred not to have to socialize before seven o’clock--but there was something about waking up early that gave her more energy throughout the day. She loved to bask in the peaceful silence before everybody else woke up and started making all their annoying noises. Hermione didn’t really like people. Not as much as she enjoyed being curled up under a warm blanket with a good book, at least.

She didn’t see Draco in the bed against the opposite wall in their room, so she assumed he had found someplace else to sleep for the night. Good riddance. She got up and made her way to the bathroom, which somewhat took her by surprise with it’s beauty. It was gorgeous--much nicer than the bathrooms in the dorms, that’s for sure. There was a white marble bath tub in one corner, and a shower with stained glass doors depicting a red lioness jumping over an emerald green serpent, in another corner.

Once she was showered, she wrapped a towel around herself and walked to the kitchen to make herself some coffee. She passed the living room on the way there, and noticed that Draco was curled up on the couch, asleep. She pondered  the idea of leaving him to sleep through his morning classes--maybe he’d get detention, if she was lucky--but realized that they probably had The Baby Project class today, and she needed him there for that.

“Malfoy,” She called, lightly shaking his shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he stirred awake.

“Hm?” He hummed, not opening his eyes.

“It’s nearly six o’clock. You may want to start getting ready for the day, seeing as classes begin in an hour and a half.”

“Alright, thank you.” He mumbled, sitting up slowly and running his hands over his face. 

Thank you? To say that the politeness the blonde was sporting completely shocked Hermione, would be an understatement. That was the first time she had ever heard him thank anyone for anything.

“No problem.” She said, before walking the rest of the way into the kitchen to put the pot of coffee on and throw a couple slices of bread into the toaster for breakfast.

She was finishing her breakfast by the time Draco reemerged from the bedroom, clad in his Slytherin robes.

“Coffee?” Hermione offered, nodding towards the still-steaming pot.

“How else would I manage to stay awake throughout the day? I barely slept a wink on that blasted couch. Still better than rooming with a Mudblood, though.”

Hermione noted that Confrontational Draco had finally woken up and was back to annoy her.

“I slept brilliantly. The bed was plenty comfortable and the room was peaceful as ever without the presence of your irritating voice. Please, feel free to sleep on the couch permanently.”

“It’s too early for your obnoxious comebacks.” He shook his head while pouring some of the dark liquid into a coffee cup.

A sharp  _ pop _ sounded over the island in the center of the kitchen, and another envelop fell onto the counter. Hermione grabbed it and took out the three pieces of parchment.

“There is a note here.” Hermione announced. She began reading, “Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I hope you are settling nicely into your new home. The two additional papers in this envelope are your schedules. You will see that neither of you have any lessons--except for The Baby Project--at the same time, so that at least one of you is always available to care for your children. Have a good day. Minerva McGonagall.”

Hermione was looking over her very full schedule, when Draco spoke up, humor evident in his tone.

“So, this really doesn’t have anything to do with me, but...are you planning on putting some clothes on, or are you going to walk around in a towel all day?”

Hermione glanced down and blushed at the realization that she was, in fact, still only wearing a towel that covered a lot less of her body than she would have wanted showing. Without a word, she hurried down the hallway towards the bedroom. When she came back a few minutes later, her face was scrunched up in confusion.

“Do you know where my robe and shoes are? I seem to have misplaced them.” She asked, looking around the room.

“By the front door.” Draco answered uninterestedly, buttering the toast he had just made himself. “You have eyes, Mudblood, use them.”

“Grab the dolls from their room, so we can go to class.” Hermione told him, ignoring his snide remark.


	5. Chapter Four

“Alright, class, please take a seat at an empty table with your partner and any dolls, if you have them. Also, please have your textbook out on your desks.” The professor, a young woman with brown hair and hazel eyes, instructed from the front of the classroom. “You all can call me Professor Beckley.”

Hermione and Draco found a desk towards the back of the room and sat down, placing the two dolls on the table top.

“Please turn to page twenty-five in your textbooks, and we will begin awakening the baby dolls.” Professor Beckley said.

Draco turned to ask Hermione if they were going to use her textbook or his, but he found that she was already open to the page and skimming through the passage. It really didn’t even surprise him that she was already done reading the page, before half of the class even had their books out.

As the professor talked a little about herself while people were flipping to the correct page in their textbooks, Draco found his mind wandering. He didn’t understand why he had to take this class. If it was about young witches getting pregnant, he didn’t see why the males had to also take the class. Also, he wasn’t sure why they wouldn’t just use protection. There are even contraception spells that are ridiculously easy to learn. What he’d give to be alone in a quiet room with an ice-cold butterbeer in his hand. He’d kill for that.

“Mr. Malfoy, it seems as if your head might be off in the clouds a the moment. Let’s bring it back down to the classroom, shall we?” Professor Beckley interrupted his thoughts. “Why don’t you read the steps to waking up the dolls, and then you and your partner may demonstrate for the class.”

“Yes, Professor.” Draco mumbled. Hermione slid him her book and he began reading off the steps. “First, take the hand of your partner and the baby doll, forming a triangle between the three of you. A bright light will radiate from the joined hands. Once you see the light, both partners must clearly say ‘Bambino’. Remember not to let go of either hand until the light completely fades away.”

“Wonderful. Now, please perform a demonstration for the class with your partner.” Professor Beckley said, smiling.

Draco looked distastefully at Hermione’s outstretched hand, before carefully taking it in his own and trying to ignore the fact that countless Mudblood diseases were seeping into his skin. With his other hand, he grabbed the arm of the--rather unnerving, in his opinion--baby doll. As expected, a white light radiated from the doll and crept up Draco and Hermione’s arms, forming a glowing triangle.

“Bambino.” The duo chorused, both having to shut their eyes when the light intensified into an almost-blinding state. Just as quickly as the light amplified, it diminished, leaving a grinning two year old boy sitting on the desk. 

Draco looked down at the hand he was holding, which was no longer plastic, but a warm, flesh-covered  _ hand _ . The boy had silver eyes and platinum blonde hair that fell in waves just below his ears. Both ‘parents’ stared in amazement at the child, silently picking out the different aspects of themselves that were transferred onto the child.

“Very good!” Professor Beckley exclaimed, clapping. “Alright, class, do it just as they did.”

After repeating the steps again, Draco and Hermione had two identical twin boys sitting on the desk, staring at them.

“You’re kids are quite adorable, you know.” Luna commented, appearing behind Hermione and making Draco jump. Where had she even come from?

“They are little replicas of Malfoy.” Hermione commented with a bit of an edge to her voice. “Now I have three of them.”

“They share his coloring, but they definitely hold features of you, Hermione. Their hair is wavy, like yours.”

“They also have your nose.” Draco pointed out. That was one of the first things he had noticed, though he didn’t know why he was so aware of what her nose looked like.

“I reckon you ought to name them, now.” Luna said, reminding both of them that the boys did indeed need names.

“How do you want to name them? Together, or we each name one?” Hermione asked Draco.

“It doesn’t matter, really, but I know that you are not going to agree to any sensible name I choose, so ‘together’ probably isn’t much of an option.”

“Fine. We each name one. I’ve always liked the name Dylan Cole.”

Draco looked at her, unimpressed. “I think I should name both of them. They came from two wizards, and you are trying to name one of them the most Muggle names I’ve ever heard.”

“Muggles named me--does that make me any less of a witch? Names don’t mean anything.”

“Don’t use yourself as an example of a witch, Mudblood. You just barely made the cut to be a part of the wizarding world at all.”

“I beg your pardon? What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the only reason you are here is a mistake that somehow gave magic to a daughter of muggle decent.”

“I am just as much a wizard as you, Malfoy. And you are going to have to get over this blood prejudice thing you have drilled so deep in your thick skull, because your kids are half-blood.”

“My kids.” Draco scoffed, shaking his head. “This is a project--they aren’t my kids. They would be pureblood, if they were, and their mother wouldn’t in a million years be you.”

“Malfoy, Granger, please come up to my desk.” Professor Beckley called over all of the noise.

“Luna, could you watch the boys?” Hermione asked, and the thoughtful girl nodded.

The two made their way to the front of the room and the professor looked them both over.

“I understand that you two have trouble getting along, but for the sake of your children, you need to learn how to fake it. Fighting parents make unhappy kids, and you are being graded for how well you raise them. All arguments must be held out of sight and hearing-range of the twins.”

“Granger and I can’t be in the same room for ten minutes without her saying something idiotic and starting an argument--she’s the most disagreeing person I’ve ever met.” Draco said.

“Me?” Hermione laughed bitterly. “You are the prejudice, egotistical,  _ Death Eater _ ! I don’t see how McGonagall ever could have imagined that this would work out.”

“But she does, does she not?” Professor Beckley cut in. “She believes that you two can work it out and handle being in each other’s presence for the year. After these next nine months, you will never have to see or speak to each other again, but you have to figure out how to tolerate each other for now. It isn’t an option.”

“Fine.” Hermione huffed out through gritted teeth.

They returned to their desk, where Luna was holding the two boys. She handed Dylan to Hermione, and the nameless boy to Draco, before skipping off to Blaise on the other side of the room.

“So, what are you going to name that one?” Hermione asked, sitting in her chair with Dylan in her lap, playing absently with the tips of her hair. Draco hoped the boy would tug her hair out, like she did to him while making the baby potion the previous night.

“Hmm,” Draco thought, looking at the twin standing on his legs. “Scorpius Hyperion seems like a good name. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.”

“Alright.” Hermione shrugged. Dylan was sat calmly in her lap, being almost silent while she read ahead in her textbook. Draco almost wanted to ask to trade, as his was starting to annoy him.

Scorpius had reached out and twisted his little grubby fingers tightly in Draco’s hair, pulling and squealing excitedly when Draco hissed. He began jumping up and down on his father’s legs, while Draco tried to pry his fingers out of his blonde locks.

“You are doing a magnificent job over there, Malfoy.” Hermione noticed, trying to hide her grin. 

He opened his mouth to reply with a good comeback, but let out “Bloody hell!” instead, when Scorpius’ foot landed in a quite sensitive area, rather than his leg.

Hermione reached over and gently removed Scorpius’ hand from his hair, then took him and set him on her own lap. “Were you beating up on your daddy? Good job!”

“Are you joking, Granger? He doesn’t deserve  _ praise  _ for that! He deserves punishment.” Draco spit, glaring at the child.

“He’s two, Draco. What do you want me to do? Spank him?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what you should do.”

Hermione stared at him for a moment to judge if he was actually serious. He was.

“We are not spanking our children. Violence is not the way to correct behavior--it just suggests that you hurt people to get them to do what you want. That’s not an idea I want in our children’s heads.”

“It’s how you keep children in line. I was spanked and hit occasionally in my youth--but I almost never got out of line. It teaches kids that they need to respect rules and authority.”

“It taught you how to become a Death Eater with no consideration for anyone you deem to be below yourself. I grew up with words and groundings, and although I may not be perfect, I’m a lot better of a person than you.”

Draco wanted to argue, but he knew he couldn’t. She was right. She was a much better person than he was--there was no denying it.

“Then I will leave you in charge with your sissy punishments, and if they turn out like a couple of disrespectful apes, then we will both know who to blame.” Draco gave in.

“Alright, good work today.” Professor Beckley said loudly from her desk. “Class dismissed.”


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short...but I hope you like it!

After a long day of being dragged around to different classrooms, Scorpius and Dylan Malfoy were exhausted. They were barely home for twenty minutes, when Hermione noticed Dylan’s eyelids beginning to droop and Scorpius’s head starting to lull forward.

“We need to put them to bed.” She commented, looking over at Draco. He was seated at the kitchen table, scribbling away at the Ancient Runes essay he had to do for homework that night.

“Then put them to bed.” He mumbled, trying to concentrate on what he was writing.

“Why do  _ I  _ have to do it?” Hermione questioned, crossing her arms over her chest. “You are just as much their parent as I am.”

“I’m busy, Granger. Unless you would like to write this essay for me?”

“And what do you think  _ I’m  _ doing? Sitting back and daydreaming? I’m working on my assignments, as well.”

“I’m not putting them to bed.”

“Fine,” Hermione huffed, standing up from where she was at the kitchen island. “I suppose I’ll do it tonight, seeing as you have to do it tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ginny and Harry invited me over tomorrow evening to meet their kids and hang out, so you will have the twins all to yourself for the night.” Hermione informed him as she picked the boys up and carried them down the hall to their room.

Draco tried to concentrate on his essay, but before long, he heard a soft melody coming from the boys’ room. Was Hermione singing? He quietly set his quill down on the table top and crept towards the open door of the children’s room.

“If they knew all about you, they’d end up loving you, too.” Hermione sang rhythmically. “All those same people who scold you, what they’d give just for the right to hold you.”

By the end of the song, Scorpius and Dylan were fast asleep, and whether Draco wanted to admit it or not, he was getting drowsy, too. She had the most soothing voice he had ever heard. 

“What was that?” Draco asked when Hermione walked out.

“Baby Mine, from Dumbo. It’s a Muggle movie for children.”

“No, I mean...the  _ singing _ . Why the bloody Hell did you sing them to sleep?”

“They are two. Your parents never did that?”

“What do you think?” Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m a boy--I didn’t need to be sung lullabies to go to sleep. I don’t want our sons to, either.”

“It’s not a big deal, Malfoy. Just because they are boys, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t like singing. It’s a calming sound to anyone--regardless of gender.”

“Well don’t expect me to start singing ridiculous nursery rhymes to them.” Draco shook his head.

“Nobody said that you have to. You can try whatever method you want--except anything violent--while putting them to bed tomorrow.”

With that, they parted ways. Draco went back to the kitchen table and Hermione went back to the island, without another word. The only sound in the apartment for over an hour was the faint scratching of their quills on parchment, until Draco’s stomach growled loudly.

“Was that your stomach?” Hermione giggled, looking over at him. “We didn’t eat too long ago--how are you possibly hungry again?”

“I didn’t hear anything, Granger.” Draco denied. Since nothing ever went Draco’s way in life, his stomach made sure to grumble even louder a second time.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Leave me alone--I’m trying to focus.” Draco waved her off.

She watched him for a moment, before getting up and opening the fridge. She pulled out several items and set them on the counter, but Draco wasn’t paying any attention. He had moved on from his essay and was now trying to figure out how to do his Arithmancy homework. Since third year, it was always the hardest class for him, but he continued taking it each year. The only thing harder than Arithmancy was knowing that Hermione was also in it and doing better than him. They had always had an unspoken rivalry when it came to the marks they received in their classes, and Hermione was inarguably beating him in this one.

Draco jumped slightly, when the sound of a plate being set on the table beside his parchment pulled him from his thoughts. He looked at the two pieces of warm bread with what he assumed was butter, sugar, and cinnamon spread over them. He looked up at her questioningly, but she just sat back down at the island with her back to him and continued doing her homework. Was she trying to poison him? He picked a piece up and stared at it for a moment. He hesitantly bit into the bread and found that it was absolutely delicious, tasting just as sweet as it smelled. It was an odd consistency, because of the butter and grainy sugar, but he continued eating it.

“So, was that some sort of Muggle food or something?” he asked, once he was done. He put the plate in the sink and grabbed a glass to pour himself some milk.

“I suppose so.” Hermione shrugged, keeping her eyes on her parchment. Draco bitterly realized that it was her Arithmancy homework and she was almost done, while he had been on the second question for almost ten minutes. “It’s like instant french toast...my mum used to make it for me from time to time.”

“Oh,” Draco said, before returning to the table. He contemplated thanking her, but he still wasn’t sure that she hadn’t poisoned him yet. He would look like quite the idiot if he thanked her for killing him, after all. Besides, why would he lower himself to the extent of thanking a  _Mudblood_?


	7. Chapter Six

“Well, I for one am exhausted.” Draco sighed, collapsing onto the couch beside Hermione and the twins, who were both squeezed onto her lap. “Your bloody snoring kept me up all night long.”

“I really hope you aren’t under the impression that you will be sleeping anytime soon, Malfoy. I assume you didn’t forget that after Care of Magical Creatures today, I’m going over to Harry and Ginny’s apartment to see their children, as I informed you of yesterday. I’ll probably be gone most of the night. You’ll have to take Dylan and Scorpius.”

“You really want me to look after them alone? All by myself?”

“I’m glad to see that you know the definition of ‘alone’.”

“They don’t even like me, though! Even with a lap as small as yours, they both fight to be on it. They are practically glued to you.”

“That really sounds more like a ‘you’ problem, than a ‘me’ problem, don’t you think? It’s your turn to try out your promising methods of putting the children to bed.”

“Well, singing Muggle nursery rhymes won’t be on the agenda tonight--that’s for certain.”

“Suit yourself.” Hermione shrugged, before standing up and shifting the boys onto each hip. “Well, let’s go. Hagrid’s class starts in a few minutes and I rather not be late.”

***

“Unicorns,” Hagrid boomed, “are one of the most kind and pure creatures out there. Their blood has the power to keep the drinker alive, even if they are  _ seconds _ from their death...but it comes with a price, you see. The drinker…”

As Hagrid’s loud voice continued the lecture, Hermione’s attention was drawn to the small hand tugging at the hem of her shirt.

“Mummy, why does that horsey have a wand stuck on his head?” Dylan asked curiously, watching the creature sitting beside Hagrid on the ground.

“It’s a unicorn, not a horse.” Hermione laughed. “Unicorns have horns on their foreheads.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure...that’s just how they are made, I suppose. It’s what makes them unicorns.”

Dylan’s eyebrows furrowed slightly for a moment as he appeared to think it over, before nodding understandingly.

After class, Hermione all but ran up to Draco and handed the kids to him, “I’d better be going. Make sure to feed them dinner and help them brush and floss their teeth before going to bed. Bedtime is eight o’ clock.”

“I’m aware of their schedule, Granger. Believe it or not, I’ve lived here just as long as you have.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“If you hurt a hair on either of those boys’ heads, I will shove your broomstick so far up your arse, you’ll be able to  _ taste  _ it. St. Mungos might not even be able to remove it.”

“Are you done threatening me now? I was under the impression that you were leaving soon.”

“And you wonder why the boys haven’t taken to you.” she scoffed. “ Are you surprised, really? I’m not. You’re not a very pleasant person to be around.”

“I’ll make sure to cry myself to sleep over it.” he said sarcastically, eliciting a frustrated groan from Hermione, as she turned on her heels and started towards the Potter residence, leaving Malfoy to walk back to the apartment and mentally prepare himself for the night ahead.

Hermione hardly had time to knock once at the door of flat 301, before it flew open and an excited Ginny enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug.

The Weasleys and their hugs. They all got it from Molly, no doubt.

“Hermione!” Ginny squealed right beside her ear, making the older girl flinch slightly. She loved Ginny--she really did--but the girl was always so loud and energetic. Hermione always found people like that to be quite exhausting at times. “Welcome to the Potter household.”

Ginny grabbed onto Hermione’s arm and pulled her inside the slightly-hectic flat. Harry raced around the corner into the living room, getting chased by a small boy with unruly dark hair and hazel eyes, and a second younger boy much like the first, except with green eyes. There were toys and pillows scattered haphazardly across the living room and kitchen floors--probably the rest of the house, as well, but Hermione couldn’t see much else from where she was standing by the door.

“Kids, Harry, Aunt Hermione is here! Come say hello.” Ginny shouted above their rukus. 

“‘Mione,” Harry smiled, pulling her into a hug. “How is it going with Malfoy?”

“He’s a pain to deal with, as you can imagine, but at least he keeps the house clean and stays on top of the laundry and such. He’s trying to put the children to bed tonight by himself, so that should be interesting.”

“I applaud you--I wouldn’t be able to live with the git.” Harry shook his head.

“Me either. I can barely live with this doofus.” Ginny joked.

“Oi!” Harry protested.

“Hermione, these are our sons,  James Sirius and Albus Severus. James is four and Albus is three. I still haven’t quite figured out if the closeness in age is a blessing or a curse.” Ginny laughed.

“Well, they both look just like Harry. I’d ask for a refund, if I were you, Gin. You need a red-haired child to keep that Weasleyness alive.”

“I agree!” Ginny said, looking pointedly at Harry and rubbing her very swollen stomach. Hermione had been so caught up in all the chaos and noise in the house, that she hadn’t even realized that Ginny was so pregnant. “This one on the way better have red hair.”

“Why are you looking at me? I have no say in that.”

“I’m still going to blame you, if he or she comes out with dark hair.”

“Women  are something, I tell ya.”

“We should schedule a playdate sometime. My boys are two and very energetic--I know they’d get along perfectly with your little troublemakers.” Hermione proposed.\

“Oh, that’d be perfect!” Ginny grinned. “Then Harry and I could meet them, as well. What are their names, again?”

“Scorpious Hyperion and Dylan Cole.” Hermione told her.

“I can’t wait.”

After a few hours of catching up with Harry and Ginny, Hermione decided that she should probably head home. It was nearing eight o’clock and she wasn’t exactly certain that Draco was capable of successfully putting the children to sleep. 

If only she could sneak in and watch him without him knowing…

“Harry, I don’t suppose you have your Invisibility Cloak with you this year, do you?”

“I do, actually.”

“Could I borrow it?”

***

Hermione quietly slinked into her flat, careful not to step too heavily and make a sound. She started slowly making her way towards the kids’ room, where she could hear Draco beginning his task of trying to put the kids to bed. Peering into the room, Hermione had to use every ounce of strength she had not to burst into laughter.

Draco was practically wrestling Scorpius, who had tight fists of his father’s hair and was pulling with all of his strength, making Draco’s face contort painfully. Meanwhile, Dylan was running circles around the two of them, giggling excitedly.

“It’s time for bed, boys, so you both need to go lay down right this second.” Draco said, prying Scorpius’ little fingers from his hair. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, if you rip out any more of my hair, I swear to Merlin…”

Once Draco’s hair was safe again, he quickly scooped up his son and put him in his bed, where he began jumping up and down. When he turned around to get Dylan, he noticed that the small boy was laying on his back on the floor, looking up at him with a smirk uncomfortably similar to the one Draco was so famous for.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Draco asked him.

“You said lay down.” Dylan answered simply.

Smart arse.

“I meant in your bed.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“Well, I’m saying it now, Dylan.” Draco sighed exasperatedly, reaching down to lift him off the ground and place him in bed. “Please just go to bed, boys. I’m going to be honest with you: I’m trying to prove to your Mum that you don’t need to be sung to at night to go to sleep. You’re big boys, right? You don’t need that.  That’s for babies.”

“Where is Mummy?” Dylan asked, sitting up and looking around.

“She is with some of her friends at another flat right now.”

“Mummy’s not here?” Scorpius said, sticking out his lower lip, dangerously close to crying, which Draco did not want to deal with.

“Hey, why are you crying? Don’t cry.” Draco pleaded.  “Daddy’s here--I get to put you to bed tonight.”

Dylan slid out of his bed and bolted for the door. Hermione had to quickly back up in order to avoid getting ran into.

“Dylan, where are you going?” Draco called out, making Dylan turn back around in the doorway.

“I’m going to find Mummy. She can sing us a bedtime song.” Dylan explained. Hermione smiled warmly at that, fighting the urge to scoop him up in her arms and hug him. He was so sweet.

“What if Daddy sang you a bedtime song?” Draco proposed, desperate to get the kids to bed before Hermione got home. If only he knew.

Both of the boys started laughing, and Scorpius told him, “Daddies can’t sing bedtime songs--only Mummies can!”

“That isn’t true. I can sing, too.”

“No,” Dylan giggled, scrunching up his nose and shaking his head.

“Oh yes, I can. Come get into bed and I’ll show you.”

Dylan crawled back into bed and got under the covers, watching him expectantly. Scorpius still hadn’t stopped jumping up and down on his bed, so Draco scooped him up and playfully dropped him onto his back on the bed, making him squeal loudly. Every time he tried to co ver him up with his blanket, Scorpius would kick the blankets off.

“Now you listen here, little man.” Draco said, tickling the side of his son’s neck and sides, making the small boy roll around the bed, laughing hysterically. “It is time to go to bed.”

Once the twins were both laying in their beds, Draco began humming a makeshift version of the song Hermione had sang to them the night before. Dylan passed out almost immediately, clutching his stuffed animal--whether it was a dog or a bear, Draco wasn’t entirely sure--but Scorpius was still wide awake.

“Aren’t you tired?” Draco whispered. Scorpius shook his head and Draco sighed. If he left him in here, he could end up getting bored and waking Dylan up, but if he just let him go watch television or something, Hermione would kill him. He reached down and picked the toddler up, then brought him to his own room at the end of the hall. Hermione had to flatten herself against the wall to remain unnoticed as they passed her.

“What are we doing?” Scorpius asked when Draco crawled into the Slytherin bed with him.

“Daddy’s tired.” Draco told him, laying down. “So, you can lay with me while I go to sleep, alright?”

“Okay.” Scorpius shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Draco closed his eyes and Scorpius began humming  _ Baby Mine _ \--much closer to the one Hermione sang, Draco noticed. Hermione was pretty sure this was the most precious thing she had ever seen. He was singing Draco to sleep!

Once the song was over, Scorpius stared at Draco until he decided that he was definitely asleep, then gave his cheek a sloppy kiss, curled up into his side,  and said, “I love you, Daddy.”

Once Scorpius’ breathing evened out and he was fast asleep, Hermione pulled the cloak off. She looked at Draco and their son and smiled. Draco did it. He put the kids to bed.

She was really proud of him.


	8. Chapter Seven

The next morning, Draco woke up to the feeling of a small body curled into his side, shifting slightly each time it took a breath. Memories of the previous night rushed back into his mind and he couldn't prevent the small smile that graced his thin lips as he realized that the body was Scorpius, sleeping peacefully beside him.

Turned out Hermione was right: you get better results by being kind. He probably should have listened to her--he was pretty sure he had heard somewhere that girls have motherly instincts or something.

Carefully, to not disturb Scorpius, Draco swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. He looked over at Hermione, who was snoring softly on the other side of the room.

The question of whether or not snores could be cute briefly crossed Draco's mind, and with that disturbing thought about the Muggle Born, he left the room. He walked down the hall and heard a faint thumping sound coming from the kids' room, and went in to find Dylan using his bed as a trampoline.

"Hey, Monster, what are you doing?" Draco asked, picking up his small son and putting him on his hip. That still sounded so weird to him. Son. Just a few weeks ago, he was relaxing in his room with servants attending to his every need. Now, he was having to attend to two children, who relied on him for everything.

"I'm hungry." Dylan said loudly, shattering the quiet and making Draco flinch.

"Shh, shh! Your mum and Scorpius are sleeping; we have to be quiet." he whispered, carrying him out of the bedroom.

Once they were in the kitchen, Draco grabbed a banana out of the fruit bowl on the counter and gave it to Dylan, before taking a green apple for himself.

"Green apples are Daddy's favorite." Draco told his son, before taking a bite into the fruit.

Dylan looked down at his partially-eaten banana for a moment, before holding his empty hand out and asking, "Can I have a little bite?"

"Just a little one?"

"Mhmm." Dylan smiled, taking the juicy apple from his hand.

Draco knew as soon as Dylan bit into it that he wasn't going to get that apple back.

"Good morning, Draco." Hermione mumbled as she walked into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her hair was frizzy and wild-looking, sticking out in all directions like a lion's mane, and Draco had to bite back his smile.

"Morning." Draco nodded at her, biting into the banana Dylan had traded him a few seconds before.

"You know, I have to admit: you did a good job putting the kids to bed last night. I was impressed." Hermione confessed, jumping up to sit on the counter top beside the fruit bowl, which she grabbed a red apple from. "Maybe there is hope for you."

"Your lack of faith in me as a parent is deeply troubling." Draco joked. "Shouldn't you trust your partner?"

"Give me a good reason to trust you, and I will." Hermione shrugged, before stretching her arms above her head and letting out a yawn.

It was then that Draco noticed that her typically-flat stomach was sticking out a bit.

"Look who has a baby bump." he pointed out.

"What?" She asked, looking down at herself. "Merlin's Beard..."

"Pretty soon, you will look like you are growing a watermelon in your stomach."

"Yet it still won't be a quarter as big as your ego."

"I have done nothing to you this morning, yet you still take jabs at me!" Draco laughed. "You always think I am the one who causes us to not get along, but it takes two to tango, Hermione."

"Just because you are kind for three minutes, doesn't mean--wait." Hermione stopped, furrowing her eyebrows at the blonde in front of her. "What did you just call me?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, confused.

"You called me Hermione."

"Is that not your name?"

"It is, but you've just...you've never called me that before."

"Don't be weird about it--It's just a name." Draco told her, rolling his eyes and turning away from her to hide the blush he felt rising to his cheeks. What was he thinking calling her that? It just slipped out!

Hermione watched him curiously for a moment, before clearing her throat and saying, "Speaking of watermelon, we need to go shopping today. There is a little grocery store that I used to go to nearby where I grew up that has fairly cheap food. You will get to see how Muggles shop--that'll be fun."

"Brilliant. I can't wait." Draco said sarcastically. "I will get the kids ready while you sort out whatever is going on on top of your head. I think some squirrels have made a home in there. You should ask for rent."

"Oh, hush up." Hermione shook her head, sliding back onto the ground and making her way towards the bathroom.

Draco noticed a book sitting on the counter and picked it up.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

He opened the cover and saw 'Hermione Granger' written neatly in the upper lefthand corner. The book felt very worn, as if it had been read several times, and the corners of several pages were folded over as bookmarks. He must have gotten distracted reading one of the pages, because a loud voice pierced through his concentration and he turned around to find chaos.

At some point during the time that he was reading, Scorpius had woken up and both him and his brother had lost their pajamas. They were running around the living room excitedly in their underwear, armed with pillows from the couch and straws they must have taken off the counter.

"I am Captain America!" Dylan shouted. "I will defeat you, Wolverine!"

"No way--Wolverine is awesomer!" Scorpius said, positioning three straws between his fingers on each hand.

Dylan swung the pillow at his brother, which easily bent the straws, but that didn't dissuade Scorpius in the slightest. He tackled Dylan in one swift movement and started attempting to stab him in the shoulder repetitively, yelling "Die, die, die!"

"Boys," Draco laughed, walking over and pulling Scorpius off of Dylan. "It's time to get dressed."

"There is no time for clothes when evil is out there!" Dylan announced heroically.

"What evil?"

"Wolverine." Dylan pointed.

"Why is Wolverine evil?" Draco asked, confused as to who any of these supposed characters were. He assumed they were Muggle-affiliated.

"He's not. He is a superhero." Scorpius disagreed.

"He's a freak."

"No, he isn't, Dylan."

"He's not even a human!"

"But he is a hero."

"Okay, this doesn't really matter right now." Draco interrupted. "Your mum is going to have a fit if you aren't dressed by the time she comes out. Trust me, she can be scary when she's angry."

"Like the Hulk?" Dylan asked.

"Um, sure." Draco shrugged. "Just go put your clothes on."

"Squaddies, time to hero up!" Scorpius shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

"Hey, Scorpy, I'm supposed to say that. I'm Captain America." Dylan complained.

"I want clothes on your bodies right this second, boys." Draco repeated. With an exaggerated eye roll from Scorpius, the twins wandered down the hallway towards their room.

Draco shook his head, making a mental note to ask Hermione about "Wolverine" and "Captain America" and "Squaddies" later.

He headed into his bedroom and found a button-up green shirt and a pair of black jeans folded neatly on his bed. Since when did he own Muggle clothing? Hermione must have bought them for him. He also noticed a pair of green sneakers by the foot of his bed, and a part of him wondered how the bloody hell she knew his sizing perfectly.

After putting the outfit on, Draco looked in the mirror.

"Don't you look just charming?" Hermione complemented, standing in the doorway.

"I look like a Muggle." Draco said, scanning over himself. There was nothing about him that suggested he belonged to the wizarding community whatsoever.

"I personally think those clothes look better on you than those black suits you wear so often. You look a lot less...serious with these. You look nineteen."

"Er, thank you." Draco told her.

"Did you get the boys ready?"

"I told them to get dressed, but who knows if they listened. They are a little riled up this morning."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, lightly bumping Draco with her shoulder to take his place in front of the mirror.

"They were saying that they were characters. Wolverine and Captain America, I believe?"

The sound of the television blared from the living room and the twins started loudly singing along to the theme song.

"That would explain the superhero fascination." Hermione laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"They are watching Superhero Squad. It's a superhero show for little kids." Hermione explained.

"I don't understand Muggles. Why can't children just go out and play?"

"I hardly believe that you went out and played as a child."

"Maybe not, but I also didn't spend my time in front of a mind-numbing light box."

"I spent my time reading." Hermione said, patting the stack of books on her nightstand affectionately, as if to back up her claim.

"And in your spare time, you casually helped fight the Dark Lord."

"I don't think most children have a childhood like ours."

"Lucky them."

Hermione nodded in agreement, before grabbing her sweater from their walk-in closet and heading towards the living room. Draco followed close behind.

"Are you boys watching Superhero Squad?" Hermione asked them, feigning curiosity, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes--it is the best show ever!" Dylan said excitedly.

"Look, Dyl, it's Mummy!" Scorpius laughed, pointing to the large green monster on the screen.

"Why am I the Hulk?" Hermione questioned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Daddy said you are." the twins chorused.

"Oh, he did, did he?' Hermione said, raising her eyebrow at the accused Slytherin, who raised his hands innocently and backed into the hallway to get the boys' shoes before she could hex him.

How was he supposed to know that this so-called "Hulk" character was a big green rage monster?


	9. Chapter Eight

"I have never seen so many Muggles in my entire life." Draco whispered, looking around the crowded parking lot as Hermione led their little family towards the entrance to the Muggle supermarket near her old house. She smiled fondly at the kids playing on the coin-operated horse ride near the front doors, and thought back to when she was that young. That _innocence_. It felt like forever ago when she was excitedly putting the quarter into the coin slot and scrambling to climb up on that horse before it started moving. Things were so much simpler then.

"I see sweets!" Scorpius exclaimed excitedly as soon as they walked in. He took off sprinting towards the aisle with chocolates and gummy candies, and Hermione sighed.

"I thought you were holding his hand?" Hermione asked Draco.

"I am not taking responsibility for that. That is your son. I would never run for sweets so frantically and childishly." Draco said.

Hermione chuckled and shook her head, walking briskly over to the small child and lifting him up onto her hip, before he could pull anything off the shelves. "Scorpy, if you can't stay with Mummy and Daddy, then you will have to sit in the cart."

Scorpius frowned, watching longingly as the seemingly-endless amount of candy got farther and farther away from him.

After almost an hour of Hermione and Draco hearing "Can I have this?", "Please! I need this!", and the crying tantrums that followed when the answer was no, they were nearing the end of their shopping trip.

At the beginning of the tantrums, Draco tried to quiet them and make them stop--but no amount of threatening to take their toys or ground them made them stop. Finally, Hermione suggested ignoring them so that they weren't getting the reaction they wanted, and oddly enough, it worked.

How was Hermione so good with kids? Motherly instincts or something, probably. Leave it to Hermione Know-It-All Granger to be right all the time.

What Draco found most odd was that throughout all of the comotion the twins were causing, nobody got upset with them. Some people even came up and said things like "I remember when mine were that age." or "Let me guess--terrible twos?" Whatever that was. He'd ask Hermione about these 'terrible twos' later.

Relief flooded through Draco when Hermione said that she was done shopping. The whole afternoon was a little too full of Muggles and tantrums for him. He just wanted to go home and relax on the couch.

"That will be 38.93 pounds, ma'am." The old man at the cash register grinned, after scanning the items. "Are those little munchkins yours?

"Yes, they are." Hermione told him, handing him the money.

"They are very cute." The man commented. Something seemed to catch his attention about Hermione's face and he squinted at her in wonder. "Do my old eyes deceive me? Could it be little Miss Hermione Granger all grown up?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed a moment in confusion, before she gasped, "Oh my goodness--Mr. Callaway!"

"You remember me! The last time I saw you, you must have been just about to turn eleven years old."

"Of course I remember you--it only took me a moment. How are you?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably, feeling as if he were eavesdropping on a conversation he should not have been part of. Dylan seemed to feel the same awkwardness, because he tugged on Draco's hand, asking to be picked up, and Draco did. Now they looked out of place together, but at least it looked like Draco was doing something other than standing there like an idiot.

"I see you've made yourself a beautiful family here." Mr. Callaway noted, looking over Draco and the twins. "I'd love an introduction."

"Oh, how rude of me." Hermione apologized. "This is my...husband...Draco Malfoy. And these two trouble-makers are Dylan and Scorpius. The little one on the way is yet to be named."

"Pleasure to meet all of you." Mr. Callaway said. "You know, my lunch break is right about now. Would you guys like to go have lunch? There is a really great sandwich place down the street."

Daco found himself praying to every God out in the universe for the Gryffindor to decline the offer, but of course she said,

"That would be fantastic!"

"Merlin, help me..." Draco mumbled under his breath.

***

"So, how did the two of you meet?" Mr. Callaway asked once they got to Bob's Sandwiches.

"We actually went to school together." Hermione answered.

"Oh, how lovely. How long have you been together?"

"Since we were thirteen--it will be six years this coming Thursday, actually."

Draco's eyebrows shot up at the claim, but he quickly regained his composure. He remembered being thirteen a little differently. It had a little more wand-pointing, name-calling, and getting punched by the bushy-haired girl than she was letting on. He decided he would just let her lie through her teeth and listen in to see where the story went.

"You look like you get on well with each other, and your kids seem happy with you. If you don't mind me asking...You must have been about seventeen when you had them--did you plan to get pregnant so young?"

Draco wondered who in their right mind thinks it's okay to just ask someone if they meant to get knocked up as a teenager. Who plans for a child at sixteen, anyway? Draco's belief that Muggles were nosy, inconsiderate people held true.

"No," Hermione laughed. "It worked out fine, though. We graduated early with top marks in every class and both held good jobs. We are currently going to college and we live in a two-bedroom apartment. I would say that we are doing fairly well for our situation."

Draco was more than confused as Hermione affectionately took his hand. She was a surprisingly good liar--even he was starting to believe her story. She was so calm and confident as she made it up, that he felt it couldn't possibly be anything but the truth.

He made a mental note to ask Hermione what the bloody hell "college" is, later.

"Well, I'm glad you are happy, Hermione. You really do have a breath-taking family. Don't let it go--you'll regret it every day after, if you do." Mr. Callaway smiled, before standing up from the table. "I must get back to work, now. I hope to see you all again soon."

With that, Hermione said her goodbyes, and he went on his way back to the grocery store.

"I'm sorry for that." Hermione apologized, letting Draco's hand go once the old man was out of sight. A small part of Draco missed the contact, but he pushed that thought out of his head as soon as it sprung up. "It felt rude not to catch up with him, when he asked."

"Hermione--the Gryffindor Princess--is a bloody liar!" Draco accused, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, I couldn't very well say that the children are a project for our school, where we learn magic, potions, and flying, now could I? Also, I didn't want to disappoint him too much. He was my babysitter for years--he watched me grow up. So, I made up a little white lie that solved everything." Hermione justified. "No harm done."

"A very elaborate white lie, one might say. What happens if he sees you again in the future with your real future husband? I'm guessing this is where you grew up--I'm assuming you'll come back here at some point."'

"Yes, it is where I grew up--but I haven't any reason for coming around very often. Besides, I doubt that will be an issue. He must be almost ninety years old by now--Merlin knows why he's still working--and I'm no closer to finding a husband than I was when I was eleven."

"Fair enough. Do you want to visit your parents while we are here?"

"Er, no. They live in Australia now and they don't remember me, anyway."

"How do they not remember you? You're their daughter--I feel like that's hard to forget."

"We should be getting back to the flat." Hermione said, changing the subject. Draco wondered what she was hiding--because it was obviously something--but he let it go for now.

***

They returned back to Hogwarts fairly quickly and almost made it to their flat, when they hear loud, angry shouting from within one of the other flats they were passing.

"Hunter, you better leave Lacey alone! You know that if you mess with her, she will kick your arse--and I'm not going to help you this time! Johnny, Jason, Joel, stop bugging Elizabeth! Sarah, get down off the bloody counter right this second!"

"I know that voice..." Draco trailed off, staring curiously at the closed door.

"Ronald Billius Weasley, this is your fault!" The girl screamed, followed by a loud crash.

"And I know that name." Hermione chuckled.

The door flew open and a little boy with shaggy brown hair ran out, attempting to escape from the little red-haired girl chasing him.

With a fast, almost instinctual movement, Draco scooped up the little boy in one arm to save him from who Draco assumed was his sister.

A very pregnant and red-faced Pansy Parkinson--or rather Pansy Weasley, at the moment--appeared in the door way.

"Well, hello, Draco. Granger." she greeted them in an exhausted sigh.

"Hi." Draco nodded to her, handing her the little boy in his arms.

"You can keep him, if you want." Pansy told them, looking at the boy with annoyance.

"Bloody hell, Pansy, stop trying to give Hunter away!" Ron exclaimed, coming over to the small crowd in the doorway.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if Pansy tried to give Hunter away on the regular.

"No, thank you. We already have two and one on the way. I think we will just stick with what we have." Draco chuckled.

"Be glad you weren't partnered with this idiot, Granger. McGonagall said that we get to be blessed with this zoo of children, because Ron needs to be prepared--seeing as Weasleys have a million kids each." Pansy rolled her eyes.

"That's not true." Ron argued.

"Yes it is! Your parents have like twelve kids."

"No! There's only seven of us."

"Do Weasleys even know what condoms are?"

"Of course, you pug-faced git. My parents wanted a lot of kids."

"Yeah, okay." Pansy said sarcastically. "You and your whole red-haired, freckle-faced blood traitor family can go fuck like rabbits and have a million ugly children and leave me out of it."

"Why are you such a bitch? Honestly--I barely open my mouth and you come in with insult after insult after insult."

"It's easy to insult you, Ronald. And for the record, you started this--you called me pug-faced! Even though I'm so much more attractive than you. Just take a look at our sex histories, if you need proof. Many boys have wanted me...who's ever wanted you?"

Hermione felt awkward for two reasons: one, because she felt very much like she shouldn't be there for Ron and Pansy's fighting, and two, because she used to have a massive crush on Ron when she was younger, and Pansy just reminded her of it. Who knows why she even liked him--they are nothing alike and on completely different intelligence levels. It would never have worked.

"Oh, sod off. When some unfortunate bloke marries you down the road, he's gonna regret it real fast when he realizes how bloody awful of a mother you are." Ron told her.

"I will not be an awful mother! I had nine children thrown at me. Nine rowdy, horrible children squished into one flat. These kids are just lucky I haven't smothered them in their sleep by now!"

"Well, I think we're going to head back to the flat now..." Draco said awkwardly, and was completely ignored by the fighting partners. He turned towards Hermione. "Should we just...go?"

"Yeah, let's leave." Hermione agreed, and the family left down the hall, leaving Ron and Pansy to fight by themselves.

Neither said anything about it, but they both silently thanked Merlin that their homelife wasn't like that. That would drive them both completely mad.

"Mummy, can we watch television?" Scorpius asked, tugging on her arm.

"Yes, for just a little while. It's almost your guys' bedtime." Hermione said.

"Superhero Squad!" the twins shouted in unison, running towards the television.

The topic of Superhero Squad reminded Draco of the conversations he was hearing about it earlier.

"So, I'm confused. Is Wolverine a hero or a villain? The boys were arguing about it earlier." Draco asked Hermione once the two of them got into the kitchen.

"He's a hero." she answered.

"Dylan was saying that he was a villain because he was a mutant or something."

"A mutant is someone with superpowers that they were born with. They are technically human, but they are born with an active mutant gene that gives them powers. In the comics, a lot of people feared and hated them just because they were different and not entirely human. It doesn't make them evil, though." Hermione explained.

"Wouldn't mutants be cooler than humans, since they have powers? Shouldn't the humans admire them?"

"People tend to reject others that they don't deem pure or perfect. Mutants were considered to be mistakes. The humans thought of themselves as better than them, when in reality, they were both people. They were equal in every social way. Just because someone is different, does not make their actions less important. Wolverine saved many people, and that makes him a hero. Heroes are heroes--regardless of their biological components."

Draco couldn't help but realize that his thoughts on Muggle-borns was similar. They were different and impure and he considered them lesser because of the fact that they come from Muggle blood. Her words kept echoing in his head:

Heroes are heroes, regardless of their biological components.

Regardless of their blood.

Hermione was a hero in the eyes of many, for her courageous acts against Voldemort a couple years before, and even he can admit: he wouldn't have had the bravery she did.

Mutants can be heroes. He supposed maybe Mudbloods could be heroes, too.


	10. Chapter Nine

A loud, persistent knock at the front door woke a very disgruntled Draco and Hermione way before they wanted to open their eyes for the day.

“Bloody Hell!” Draco groaned, burying his head under his pillow in an attempt to block out the noise. “It’s 6:30 in the morning--why is someone at our damn door already?”

A loud crash echoed down the hall from the kids’ room and the nineteen year olds jumped out of bed in an instant and sprinted towards the noise. When they reached the bedroom, they nearly tripped over the half dozen boxes of puzzles, several stuffed animals, and a scattered scrabble game that had exploded across the floor--the cause of the crash they had heard a few moments before.

“How did all these things fall, boys?” Hermione asked the twins, who were looking close to four years old by now. With a wave of her wand, everything flew through the air back into the shelves of the bookcase against the wall.

“It was Scorpy’s fault--it happened when he sneezed!” Dylan accused, pointing at his brother.

“When he sneezed?” Draco questioned, raising his eyebrow.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Dylan, it’s not good to tell lies--especially to Mummy and Daddy.” Hermione prompted him. She figured they had thrown something at the bookshelf and it knocked all of the stuff down.

As if to save Dylan from getting in trouble, Scorpius sneezed again, and all of the drawers in their dresser slid open at once.

“Merlin’s Beard, Scorpius is performing accidental magic!” Draco exclaimed excitedly. “This is wonderful!”

“Honey, are you feeling sick?” Hermione asked, putting her hand out to feel his forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

Both parents were extremely pleased to hear this--neither of them knew anything about taking care of sick children.

“No, Mummy.” Scorpius shook his head, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Something just keeps tickling my nose. Dyan told me it is algies.”

“Allergies, you mean?” Hermione clarified, and her son nodded.

The knock at the front door started once again, and Draco rolled his eyes, annoyed at whoever was trying to socialize so early in the morning. Wasn’t it common knowledge that nobody should attempt social interaction until at least eight o’ clock?

Draco walked to the door and had barely unlocked it, before Ginny came barging in, walking straight into the kitchen to find food, as if she lived there.

“Come on in, Weaslette.” Draco sighed, thinking it was rather rude to just push past him and come into his house without asking. Stupid Weasleys and their poor manners. Even Hermione had better manners--and she was Muggleborn!

“I already did.” Ginny said simply, pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

“Is there anything I can do for you at this ungodly hour? I’d like to get you out of my kitchen as soon as possible.”

“Well, Ferret Face, I’m here to talk to ‘Mione...and we are teenage girls. So, I’ll be here for a good minute.” Ginny smirked, taking a bite of the cereal. “I think we should have a playdate for our kids.

“Why would I want to willingly expose my children to  _ Weasleys _ ?”

“Technically, they are Potters.”

“Even worse.”

“Ginny?” Hermione smiled, walking towards them. “What are you doing here?”

“Malfoy and I just scheduled a playdate for tomorrow morning at ten o’clock at my place. Our kids are going to have so much fun together!”

“Is that what just happened?” Draco asked, confused. He still hadn’t had his coffee--they were lucky he was forming coherent sentences.

“Oh, how exciting! The boys will love that.” Hermione laughed.

“‘Mione, I have barely spoken to you in weeks! We have so much to catch up on, I’m sure.”

After the two girls danced down the hall, slamming the bedroom door closed behind them, Draco collapsed onto the couch. Ginny’s sassy,  _ Weasley _ energy exhausted him. He wasn’t sure how the bloody hell Hermione could possibly handle her presence for extended periods of time.

Two pairs of footsteps skidded quickly into the living room and th twins jumped onto the couch beside Draco, handing him the remote for him to turn on  _ Super Hero Squad _ . As Dylan and Scorpius sang along to the theme song, Draco decided to rest his eyes for a moment.

Bad plan. 

When Draco opened his eyes again, the television was black and the boys were gone. Who knows how long he was asleep...h was supposed to be watching them! Before panicking, he quickly checked their bedroom and the bathroom. No luck.

He could still hear Hermione and Ginny giggling in the master bedroom, so he assumed that he was the only one who knew that the twins were lost.

_ He lost his sons. _

He walked over to the front door to find it unlocked. The boys were somewhere in the school--they had to be, right?

“Dylan? Scorpius?” Draco called quietly, tiptoeing down the hall. He searched the entire 7th year floor, before two giggling voices from below made him freeze in his tracks.

He rushed to the railing and peered down at the moving stairs--and there they were. Draco barely had time to process that he had found them, before they were gone again, running down the staircase and into another hallway.

He nearly fell down the stairs trying to catch up to them, but it was really no use. They were long gone by then and his hopes for finding them before Hermione found out was diminishing quickly.

***

He had looked everywhere. Every floor. Every classroom. Every bathroom. They were  _ nowhere _ . Draco sat down on a bench in the hallway right outside of the Great Hall and placed his face in his hands, trying to think of where the twins could possibly be. The front doors were not opened yet--it was barely seven o’ clock--so they couldn’t possibly be outside.

“Ahem,” a family voice cleared her throat from in front of them. His eyes snapped up to meet the very stern face of the one and only Headmistress McGonagall. “Mr. Malfoy, I believe these are yours?”

Dylan and Scorpius smiled and waved at him innocently, as if they hadn’t run away and made Draco panic and look all over the bloody school for them.

“Boys!” Draco exclaimed, relieved. “Why did you run away like that? You scared Daddy half to death.”

“The better question is why you weren’t watching them and gave them the  _ chance  _ to run away.” McGonagall commented.

“I accidentally fell asleep while watching them...It won’t happen again, Headmistress.”

“I sure hope not.” McGonagall nodded, pursing her lips, annoyedly. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Malfoy.”

With that, she left the boys with Draco.

***

As the three of them were nearing the flat, Draco told them, “If Mum asks where we were, just tell her that we went on a walk around the castle. Okay?”

Dylan and Scorpius both nodded, seeming to understand what he was saying, but when they got home, the first thing Scorpius said to Hermione was:

“Mummy, Mummy! Daddy lost us in the castle and a mean lady wearing green found us!”

“Thank you, Son.” Draco sighed.

“Daddy did  _ what _ ?” Hermione raised her eyebrow disapprovingly at her partner.

“I fell asleep when I was watching them, and I guess they got out…”

“You two go play in your room. Mummy needs to talk to Daddy.” Hermione sent them away, before turning back to Draco.

“You lost them and McGonagall had to find them for you?” Hermione asked, angry.

“Okay, it was only for a little while and nobody got hurt. Both of the boys are perfectly fine.” Draco reasoned.

“Draco, look at the bigger issue here: what if she lowers our grade for you losing them? What if--”

“The bigger issue than the twins’ safety is your  _ grade _ ?” Draco cut her off.

“They aren’t even real.” Hermione whispered, shrugging. “ _ Grades _ are real, and I’m not going get a low mark in this class.” 

“Well don’t worry your heart of gold over it--I told her that I was responsible for watching them at the time.” Draco rolled his eyes. “I understand that they aren’t our real kids or anything, but they are still our responsibility. They still feel and learn and laugh and experience things. Maybe  _ you  _ should look at the bigger issue, Hermione. Grades are just grades at the end of the day.”

With that, Draco went to his room--which he was happy not to find Ginny in--and laid down. It was a long morning.

***

At some point, Draco had fallen asleep, because it was nearly eight o’ clock when Hermione entered the room and woke him up. Luckily, he didn’t have any classes that day.

“Hey,” she said, sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“Hello.” He mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“I’ll only say this once, so you should really listen well: you were right. I should be seeing the twins more as human beings--children--than a simple grade. They do have feelings and even though they are temporary, I mean...we all are. They deserve my respect while they are here.” 

“Did Hermione Granger just admit that she was  _ wrong _ ?” Draco smiled, sitting up.

“Merlin, no. Hermione Malfoy did. Hermione Granger is always right.”

“I like Hermione Malfoy much better.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know it is an odd concept, but just roll with it.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comment! I would love to hear what you think of the story!


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